


Last Shot

by flooj9235



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flooj9235/pseuds/flooj9235
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the courier brings Christine back to the Mojave, they go their separate ways. Christine's not sure what to do with her second chance, but with war on the horizon, roadblocks and new opportunities bring Christine hurtling toward things she never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Christine's first thought upon returning to the Mojave was how bright and warm the sunshine was. After months of chasing Elijah from Big MT to the Sierra Madre, clammy coolness had become normal to her. The sun was bright and hot on her skin and she took a moment to savor the sensation.

"It's a damn sight better than being stuck in that fuckin' casino," Six murmured beside her.

The courier's voice startled Christine out of her reflection and she looked over at Six. The man was good and capable, and she was glad she'd been stuck with him. He made a good partner, but outside of their mutual need to survive Elijah's greed, Christine didn't feel particularly close to him. If they'd been thrown together in any other situation, she was pretty sure they would have been friends, but with Elijah hanging over their heads, survival was the most important thing.

She gave him a nod, looking at their hilly surroundings. Her voice wasn't her own, and she loathed the idea of responding and hearing Vera's voice coming from her mouth. The fresh scars still ached, and her throat felt like she'd tried to swallow all the sand in the Mojave. Pain aside, the last thing anyone should have been able to take from her was gone.

"Look, Christine, I..." The courier sounded tired. After all he'd been through in the Villa and then the Madre, Christine suspected he was fast approaching complete exhaustion. "I don't know if you've got anywhere to stay, but..."

Christine paused at that. The Circle probably thought she was dead, that Elijah had taken her down in a final blaze of glory. So much had been inflicted on her during her mission she doubted they'd want her back, anyway. The Brotherhood had their Codex to follow; they'd never accept an exile back into their ranks. Her shoulders sagged slightly. She was alone.

"Y'know the Lucky 38 on the Strip?"

Christine nodded again.

"I got inside. Mr. House gave me a suite in there before I took him out. Me and a few of my friends have taken up living there. It's not exactly paradise, but... If you need somewhere to rest and get back on your feet, you can come with me."

The bald woman surprised herself by considering it for a moment. She already owed the man her life, and the idea of being any more indebted to him didn't sit well with her. Christine shook her head, offering the courier an almost apologetic shrug. She'd managed well enough on her own while chasing Elijah; surely she could do it again.

Six didn't look terribly surprised, only somewhat disappointed. He went through his supplies and found her a rifle and a few cases of ammunition. Christine didn't want to accept them at first, but he protested and reminded her that it was either take it or go without a weapon. He also found a smaller knapsack and put a few bottles of water and some maize and iguana bits inside, handing that to her as well.

She thanked him and helped Six put the rest of his gear back into his bags. They hauled the bags up the steep slopes away from the bunker together, pausing and resting at the top of one of the hills. Christine took a moment to check the sights on the rifle, pleased to find that Six had kept the rifle in excellent condition. Everything was lined up perfectly, and despite being a hunting rifle, she was sure she could use it to snipe if she needed to.

"Raul does good work," Six commented, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Christine didn't know the name, but she nodded politely and tested the leather cord strapped to the gun. It wasn't fraying and seemed sturdy, so she slung the gun over her shoulder and got to her feet, pacing around on the hilltop and trying to get her bearings. A NCR camp was to their north and Christine bristled on instinct.

"Forlorn Hope," Six supplied, following her gaze. "Not exactly the liveliest of the camps, but... I'm planning on camping out there tonight and resting up before heading back to Vegas. You're welcome to join me."

Christine shot him an incredulous look. "They're NCR!"

Six blinked. "So?" He seemed to realize his mistake the moment the words left his mouth. "Oh, no, wait. I guess you wouldn't know about the treaty."

The bald woman paused at the words, unable to believe what she'd heard.

"Friend of mine hated the tension between the Brotherhood and NCR, so I talked to a few people and fixed it up. They've got an agreement to help each other, not use each other for target practice," Six explained, a smile on his face. "Probably one of the better things I've managed."

Christine studied the courier for signs of a joke, raising an eyebrow. "Bull," she decided finally.

Six chuckled. "McNamara was all for it. He signed that paper quicker'n anyone I've ever seen."

The name of the former head paladin took her by surprise, and her shoulders slumped. He couldn't be lying, not if he knew McNamara, but a treaty with NCR seemed too wild to be true. She opted to find out more for herself later, pushing the thoughts aside.

Another silence settled between them and Christine returned to studying their surroundings.

"Brotherhood bunker's about a two days walk thataway," the courier offered, pointing off toward the mountains.

Christine scoffed, then winced at the sharp pain in her throat. "Good for them."

Six gave her a quizzical look. "What, not going home?"

"That's not home. Elijah..." Christine hated admitting it, knowing that she'd failed everyone that had had high hopes for her. "Elijah exiled me. They won't take me back."

"Oh." Six looked disappointed on her behalf. "You sure you don't want to come back to the Lucky 38 with me, just for a while?"

Christine sighed. "Thanks, but... I can't."

Six didn't press her for more, just nodded understandingly. He looked up at her for a moment before he got to his feet, moving toward her and extending a hand to her. "Thanks for not lettin' us get our heads blown off."

Christine tried to grin but the scars on her face were still tight and ached at the movement. "Thanks for taking down Elijah." She shook his hand, surprised when he pressed a compass and a handful of caps into her palm.

Six shrugged, a rueful smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Someone had to put a stop to that crazy bastard."

For a moment, the old hatred of Elijah burned fiercely in the pit of Christine's stomach, and part of her hated that she hadn't been the one to put a bullet in the man's brain. After everything he'd done to her, everything he'd taken away, it didn't feel right that she couldn't return the favor. She reminded herself the man was dead and forced the anger away, giving Six a grateful nod.

Neither of them had much to say, and Christine finally backed away.

"Hey, take care of yourself," Six told her. "Maybe I'll see you around."

Christine nodded and headed off into the wastes, not sure where she was going but wanting to put as much distance between herself and the memories of Elijah and the Sierra Madre as possible.

=====:=====

It didn't take long for the heat to become unbearable, no matter how welcome a change it was. Christine refused to wish she was back inside the casino, trying to find some shade under various rock outcroppings. It took her some time, but she finally found a shady spot large enough to rest, and fell to the ground gratefully.

Her throat ached and she wasn't sure if the heat was making the tender tissue hurt or if she was just dehydrated, but she slid the pack Six had given her off her shoulders and pawed through it for a bottle of water. It was by no means cold, but the wetness of it still soothed the dryness of her mouth.

The courier's words still hung in her mind, and she wondered where she would go. Elijah was gone, so the Circle had no use for her anymore. She'd only gone there because Hardin had pulled her aside before she left the Brotherhood. The Circle wanted someone that knew how Elijah operated, and they'd told her when she'd taken the job that it could very well be a suicide mission. Her life had already been ripped away from her and she wanted to take Elijah down at any cost, so she just packed up her rifle and took off after the crazed old man.

The Brotherhood had been everything to her. Her parents had both been officers, but she had always wanted to please them, throwing herself into her training with everything she had. Christine's mother was proud and supportive, but it had always been obvious that she didn't want Christine going into combat, though she never said as much. Knowing that, Christine had aimed herself toward the scribe path, and could still remember the overwhelmed pleasure on her mother's face when she was awarded the top spot in her class. Her hard work had paid off and she was well on her way to being a high ranking member of the Brotherhood's Mojave chapter, but then Veronica happened.

Christine shook her head violently, refusing to think about the brunette that had been her everything. She needed to focus on where she could go and how she was going to survive. After all, that was one thing she and Six seemed to have in common: a stubborn will to live.

She drained the last drops of her water bottle and tucked it back in her bag, resting for a few more minutes in the shade. With a grunt, Christine got to her feet and headed south along the highway once more. Her mental map of the Mojave was starting to come back, and she knew she could find a settlement if she stuck to major roads. Having somewhere safe to spend the night sounded nearly impossible after all the nights she'd spent with her gun at her side, waiting for Elijah to have discovered her, but the idea of an actual bed was tantalizing enough to keep her moving.

The sun burned hot in the sky above her, forcing her to wipe sweat out of her eyes every few minutes. Every step seemed to take more energy than she had left, and Christine did her best to ration the water Six had given her. Part of her was ready to collapse when she spotted a guard tower up in front of her. The thought of closer shelter was enough to get her jogging, though the heat only felt more oppressive. Climbing up into the shade of the tower was a welcome relief and Christine sagged to the floor and panted for a few minutes.

The remains of a small town were before her and the crimson garbed skeletons told her this had been a Legion camp. She couldn't quite remember the name of it, but it seemed deserted enough. The bald woman rested for a few minutes before heading down into the camp and scavenging for supplies.

She didn't find much; the camp had obviously been deserted for a while and she didn't doubt that the NCR had taken what they could from the site. Christine started to get irritated but Six's mention of a treaty hung in her mind. Besides, she wasn't Brotherhood anymore; she had no right to hate NCR so much.

Christine just scoffed at herself and headed on, following the road to the highway.

A lone gecko rushed her not long after she got on Highway 95 and she took a few quick shots with her rifle, dropping the creature. She pulled her combat knife from its sheath on her leg, butchering the gecko and salvaging a large steak from the carcass. The thought of eating something fresh and not leftover from before the war practically had her toes curling in delight.

Christine wrapped the meat in the gecko's skin, looking around for something to make a fire with. There was barely any brush around, definitely not enough to start a fire with, but there was the outline of a settlement on the horizon. Christine packed the steak up and headed off toward the silhouette, finding herself grateful when the sun began to dip behind the mountains in the west.

She made it to the settlement as twilight approached. A crudely painted signed welcomed her to Novac, and Christine gave the giant dinosaur a curious look. She didn't miss the glint of a sniper rifle's scope up in the dinosaur's mouth and did her best not to look like a threat.

Christine followed the road and headed into the town, taking notice of the motel immediately behind the dinosaur. Lights from further into the settlement caught her eye, and her stomach rumbled at the faint scent of food. Christine's legs ached in protest, but she started trotting toward the town, heading for the tent the smell was emanating from.

"Howdy," a young woman called as Christine ducked inside. "Hungry?"

Christine nodded, locating an empty stool and settling onto it. A few minutes later, she was served a healthy portion of molerat stew in exchange for the gecko steak she'd cut earlier. It had been so long since she'd had a fresh, decent meal that the bowl was empty in minutes, and Christine resisted the temptation to order more; she'd eaten so fast that having more would only backfire on her.

She thanked the woman quietly, exiting the tent and studying the town. There wasn't much to it besides the motel, and since night had fallen, Christine resigned herself to being unable to explore. Her limbs felt like dead weight as she walked toward the motel and her full belly only contributed to her exhaustion.

The lobby door was open, allowing what little breeze there was to enter the room, and Christine stepped inside to look for the owner. A sleepy looking black man was parading a small dinosaur toy around on the counter, looking up when Christine started toward him.

"Hey there, little lady," he said jovially, leaning over the desk. "Welcome to Novac."

Christine bristled slightly at the condescension in the man's voice, and was for the first time grateful that Vera's voice had replaced her own. The deeper, smoother tone of the starlet's voice would keep people from considering her a child because of her height. "Got a room free?"

The man didn't respond for a few moments, eyes tracing the ragged scars crossing her scalp and throat. There was horror obvious in his eyes, and he only realized he'd been asked something when Christine cleared her throat again.

"Uh, I, a room? Yeah, got a few open tonight." He turned and grabbed a room key, making sure not to keep his back to the scarred woman for very long. "You're not, uh, gonna cause any trouble, are you?"

It took Christine a moment to realize the man was scared of her; she had avoided mirrors as best she could so she wouldn't have to see her scars, and the thought of looking dangerous was disconcerting. "I hadn't planned on it."

The man relaxed slightly, twirling the key on his finger while he continued to size her up. "All right then. It'll be seventy-five caps."

Christine paused anxiously before remembering that Six had given her some caps, and she dug in her bag for them.

The man watched as she counted slowly, raising an eyebrow when she swore quietly.

"I, uh... Thanks anyway," Christine mumbled. She was twenty short, and she dumped the caps back in their bag, pocketed them, and headed for the door.

"Hold on a minute," the man called, causing Christine to freeze a few feet from the doorway. "I can probably strike you a deal."

Christine was already embarrassed and wanted to get out and find somewhere else to camp, but the idea of a long cold Mojave night was less than appealing.

"I can do fifty caps, so long as you take a dinosaur toy." He held one out to her and grinned sheepishly. "Can't get the damn things off my hands."

The bald woman turned and quirked an eyebrow at the little plastic toy. "... Really?"

"That and some courier recruited our night sniper, so we're not as secure as we used to be. Take it or leave it," he said, a friendly smile on his face.

A few moments later, Christine had turned over nearly all her caps and had both a toy dinosaur and a room key in her hands.

"If you need anything, I'm here all night," the man told her as she left. "Just ask for Cliff!"

Christine wasn't quite sure what to do with the toy; she certainly didn't need it. Still, she had a room, so it wasn't a complete waste. She followed the directions Cliff had given her, sliding the key into the lock and opening the door. The room wasn't much, but it was relatively clean, and most importantly, there was a bed.

She turned and locked the door behind herself before dropping her bag on the chair just inside the door. There was a radio on a small desk and she flinched away from it instinctively, reaching up to finger the collar that wasn't around her neck anymore. She stared the radio down for a few minutes, reminding herself that she was out of the Sierra Madre and safe in the Mojave. Christine went ahead and made sure the dial was turned off before she relaxed.

Christine took a few minutes to explore the little room and wash the dust off of her face before collapsing into the bed. She couldn't quite remember the last time she'd had more than a crude bedroll, and she pulled her boots off and put her knife under the pillow, allowing sleep to take her away.

Years of being caught in dangerous situations had taken their toll, though, and Christine found herself jerking awake at every little noise that managed to filter into her room. She rolled over onto her stomach and reached for her knife, ears straining to hear an attacker. There was nothing but silence ringing in her ears.

Christine let out a frustrated sigh and buried her face in her pillow until she couldn't breathe. Flinching awake because of imagined noises in the dark made her feel pathetic. Even after a few short weeks in the Circle, she'd been a well respected soldier. Now she was just a shadow of her former self, and she hated herself for it.

She should have stayed in the Sierra Madre where the Cloud would have killed her. Being a cowardly, disfigured shell of a person was not the way she wanted to exist. The Brotherhood would want nothing to do with her, not after her exile, and the Circle wasn't likely to take her back once they saw what had happened. It would be better for her to fade into history as a good soldier rather than show her face and be disgraced.

Christine wondered what her parents would say if they could see her now, regretting the thought the minute it passed through her head. She'd been dead to them the minute Elijah described her relationship with Veronica. How they felt didn't matter anymore.

She had no life left in the Mojave. NCR had made its intentions known, and the entire wasteland was soon to be swallowed up by the greedy republic. The Steel factions in Nevada wanted nothing to do with her, and she was alone. Tears prickled in her eyes but Christine refused to let them fall. She was supposed to be stronger than that.

A hazy thought entered her consciousness, beginning to take form as she willed away her emotions. If the Mojave held nothing for her, maybe somewhere else would. It had been a long time since she'd studied the Brotherhood Codex, but maybe a chapter in California would allow her to join their ranks, despite her exile.

It was worth a shot, Christine decided. If the journey didn't kill her, she'd at least have a chance to join up with a group that she knew she could trust. Being back in the Brotherhood sounded like a dream come true, despite the things she'd observed while chasing Elijah. She was beginning to see flaws in the Codex; protecting people from technology that could save their lives seemed somewhat backward to her. If the Brotherhood didn't hoard the tech and dedicated themselves to making sure the technology wasn't corrupt, Christine knew things like Big MT could be avoided and they would have more friends in the wastes. Hell, they could even stand to take on a few outsiders to help with communication and relationships with outside factions, and it would only help the Brotherhood.

Christine scoffed at herself; she was beginning to sound a lot like Veronica. The wistful longing that accompanied the thought nearly made her lose control of her emotions again, but Christine just focused on pondering acceptance in a Core region chapter of the Brotherhood. She'd joined the Circle, and they were notoriously more strict than the Brotherhood chapters.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that heading west was her only real hope at a life she'd enjoy. If she wanted to be anything more than a waster for the rest of her life, the journey to the Core region was her last shot, and if the trip there killed her... Christine traced the rough scars across her skin and remembered why she was awake in the first place. No one would miss the shadow of herself that she had become.

Having a goal in mind was a relief; once Elijah had been killed, Christine had felt almost lost and completely aimless. She'd considered spending the rest of her life patrolling the casino, but Six had put an end to that before the thought had finished forming. Now that she had hope for a purpose, she wished she could go back and give Six a better thanks than running out on him the minute they escaped the bunker.

He was a courier, she reasoned, and he might make trips through the Core region. If she survived the journey and he happened to be in the area, she could figure something out then. The thought soothed the guilt that had risen in her chest and she allowed herself to drift back off to sleep, only to be plagued with vague dreams of beeping collars and the mechanical whirring of Auto-docs.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine woke early, somewhat disoriented to be in the safety of her hotel room. She got up and nibbled at some of the rations she had in her bag, insides buzzing with anxiety. She was ready to move and start west to see if her new life with a different chapter of the Brotherhood was anything more than a pipe dream. A large part of her was already disappointed and sure that she'd never be allowed to join, but she needed a goal or else she'd lose her mind.

She asked Cliff for directions toward the Core region when she turned in her room key, and he explained as best he could, telling her to stick to the main roads where NCR had cleared most of the dangers. Christine figured that would save the precious ammo she had, so she thanked him and headed out.

It took her a minute to get her bearings, but with the rising sun to her east and the motel owner's directions fresh in her mind, Christine set off down Highway 95, following the old road south. The trip was quiet and the road was mostly empty.

She went on the defensive when she saw an NCR flag, but as she approached it, she saw the devastated remains of what looked like an NCR radio station. Crudely painted Legion symbols stained the walls and corpses were scattered and in pieces throughout the compound. Christine swallowed hard at the sight of the destruction; as much as the scene reminded her of different NCR-Brotherhood clashes in which the Brotherhood were the ones slaughtered, she couldn't find it in herself to appreciate the damage done to the republic's soldiers.

Christine left the camp almost as quickly as she'd come across it, not wanting to disturb the dead or anyone else that may have been watching. A few legionaries were patrolling the road a few miles away, and Christine did her best to sneak past. Luck was not in her favor, though, and one of the men spotted her.

Christine grabbed her rifle off her shoulder and started shooting, jumping behind a billboard and ducking away from wayward bullets that punched through the Pre-war advertisement. The yelling came closer and she swore under her breath, leaning out from behind the sign and shooting at the crimson-clad men running at her.

She caught one in the shoulder, grateful when he dropped the rifle he'd been carrying. One of the others scrambled to grab the rifle, and Christine waited until he'd bent over, squeezing her trigger and watching him jerk to the ground and go still. The other men only hesitated for a moment, which Christine used to hide and reload.

Before she had to worry about the rest of the Legion warriors, gunfire roared through the air. The legionaries yelled Latin battle cries, trailing off into cries of pain as they were presumably ripped apart by the hail of bullets.

Christine wondered if it would be better to press herself into a shadowed niche and wait until whoever had aided her had left, but before she could think about it, something cracked against the back of her skull and she staggered, trying to turn and see what had happened.

A lone Legion soldier stood over her, machete raised high in his hands to deliver a few final blows. Christine tried to pull her rifle up and shoot, but her hands wouldn't quite work. She twisted out of the way as he swung at her, letting the big man go off balance as she pulled her combat knife off her leg.

Her rushed assassin training with the Circle had paid off; she jammed her knife into the first weak area of his armor that she could reach, throwing all her weight into the attack. He yowled and flung his arm out, knocking her away. Christine hit the ground hard, dazed for a moment.

The legionary's breathing was ragged as he turned and pulled her knife out of his side, and he flung it toward her with a snarl. "Retribution!" he hissed, raising his machete once more.

Christine flinched away from the blow that never came, startled to hear more gunfire and the thud of a body falling to the ground.

"Hey, you all right?" Strong arms helped haul her to her feet and Christine tried not to be hostile toward the NCR soldier that offered her a crooked grin that was probably meant to be comforting. "Them Legion assholes nearly got ya. Lucky we were comin' down the road."

Christine nodded, rubbing at the back of her head where the legionary had clubbed her. It was sore, but there was no blood on her fingers. She hated that she hadn't heard him coming up behind her, and idly wondered if she was cut out for combat. Staying a scribe would have kept her out of all this mess, except Veronica would still have been there, just as sweet and wonderful as ever. Christine bit back a sigh and looked at the NCR soldier. "Thanks for the assist."

"No problem," he said easily, eyeing her scars and waving over some of his squadmates. "Need anything for those, uh..." He traced the outlines of her scars on himself, obviously uncomfortable bringing them up the minute he started talking.

Christine shook her head. "They're not fresh. Nothing to do for them but wear them." She turned and found her knife in the dirt, still glistening with blood, and wiped it carefully on the legionary's tunic. Christine slipped it back into its sheath, grabbing up her rifle and slinging the strap over her shoulder.

The soldiers looked at her uncertainly, and one offered her more ammunition.

The bald woman hesitated before accepting it, remembering Six mentioning the treaty and taking the ammunition cautiously. "Thanks." She dropped the extra shells into her bag and tried her best to be casual. "I heard someone talking about a treaty NCR's made. With some, uh, Brotherhood of Steel?"

The soldiers nearest her nodded. "Yeah. Some hotshot courier apparently got an agreement written up between Colonel Moore and the Brotherhood elder. One less guy shooting at us, so I'm all for it." He laughed a little, shrugging at his friends. "From what I hear, they've been pretty harmless since Helios. Must'a put someone else in charge; tryin' to defend that place is hell, 'ccording to my brother."

Christine put a thoughtful look on her face, remembering reading the Circle's reports about the failed attempt to hold Helios. "So they're not a bad group?"

"Nah. Most of us haven't ever even seen a Brotherhood soldier, but I'm glad they're on our side now. The officers still seem a little, uh, uneasy, but I think it'll work out okay." The soldier removed his helmet and wiped his brow, squinting up at the sun and swearing under his breath.

Christine wasn't quite sure what to do with the new information; the entire mindset she'd been raised on was being turned on its head. "Thanks for the help," she said again, backing away. As she headed off, she heard the men muttering about their hatred of the heat and their wish for a nuclear winter.

She followed faded road signs, heading west toward California and the Core region. Once the sun reached its peak, Christine could hardly stand the heat and took shelter in an abandoned farmhouse. The shack appeared to have been untouched for months, so Christine rummaged through the unwanted belongings, pleased to come across some water and a few bottle caps.

There were a few nearly-destroyed books on a shelf, and despite knowing she wouldn't be able to read them, Christine picked one up anyway and cracked it open. The words on the page stared back up at her, all meaningless symbols and jumbles of mismatched markings. She scowled and set the book aside disgustedly, idly wondering if she'd ever be able to read or write again.

Before she left the shelter, Christine cobbled together a lunch out of her supplies, being as sparing she could. If the road so far was anything like the rest of her journey would be, there wasn't going to be much of an opportunity to buy more to eat.

Once the sun had started to sink in the sky, Christine walked out of the farmhouse, following the sun and continuing her journey westward. She made it as far as the charred remains of a town, noticing a few corpses crudely strung up on poles and finding an empty house far from the gory sight. After raiding the refrigerator, Christine went straight to the bedroom and collapsed, her energy having been drained by the heat and the journey from Novac.

Nightmares plagued her, filling her mind with the choking sensation of a bomb collar and the disappointed faces of people she used to love. The collar around her neck started beeping and Christine saw herself look over and spot Six near a radio. She tried to cry out but her voice was gone and someone stepped in front of her. Christine looked up as the collar beeped faster, horrified to see Veronica with Elijah's crazed look in her eye and a detonator in her hand. Veronica simply shook her head and activated the detonator.

Christine jerked awake, gasping for breath. Her hands went to her throat, feeling for the bomb collar that had only existed in her dream. She sagged back against the old mattress as her heart pounded in her chest, doing her best to calm down.

Even after a few minutes, her hands still felt shaky, so Christine got up and padded to the abandoned kitchen, looking in the old refrigerator and managing to find a bottle of alcohol. She took a few gulps and returned to the bed, coughing a little at the burn in her throat.

It wasn't her favorite outlet, but in the dark of the night, Christine took what she could get. The drink took effect soon enough and she managed to drift off to sleep before the sun rose.

=====:=====

Christine got up later than she meant to and by the time she left the charred town, the sun was already hot overhead. In the distance, the mountains stretched up into the sky, just the beginning of many on her trip to the Core region.

As she walked, the desert flattened out and dust began blowing in hot winds. Christine could make out an old road heading up the mountain, still littered with Pre-war vehicles, and aimed herself toward it. An already paved road would be the easiest trip across the desert, and if nothing else, an old car could provide some shelter.

Her mind made up, Christine cracked open a bottle of water and guzzled some as she crossed a dry lake bed. It was only thanks to the wind dying down that she heard the scuttling noise of a soldier ant.

Christine pulled her rifle off her back and fired a few shots, skirting around the burst of flames from the insect's mouth. It only took one shot for the bug to be taken down, and Christine kept her eyes peeled, picking up the pace until she climbed out of the lake bed and onto the paved road.

High above her at the top of the hill stood two metal statues clasping hands. Christine had a vague memory of the statues being built, remembering hearing about a small NCR checkpoint there. She considered stopping to rest before starting the climb, but saw a few radscorpions off in the distance and thought better of it.

Her legs were burning by the time she reached the top and she was gasping for breath. The size of the compound before her surprised her; she'd been expecting little more than some semblance of a gate guardhouse, but a full blown military base was fenced in beside the remains of a toll station. NCR troops were milling around and talking in small groups, most safe behind the fence surrounding their barracks and offices. Beyond the camp was a large gate with a lone guard standing watch.

Christine took a moment or two to catch her breath before walking through the camp as casually as she could manage. She kept her eyes on her goal, walking toward the gate and doing her best not to draw attention to herself. The guard eyed her as she approached and she forced a smile. "Need a fee, or can I just head on through?"

"Sorry," the guard said with a sympathetic shake of his head. "Orders are no one goes through. No caravans, no travelers, no one. We're all stuck out here until Colonel Royez or President Kimball says otherwise."

Christine's smile disappeared. "I'm not an NCR citizen," she protested, cut off by a shake of the soldier's head.

"No one goes through." He gave her an apologetic shrug. "Orders are orders, ma'am. Sorry."

The scarred woman wanted to retaliate or force her way through, but being on her own in the middle of an NCR camp was enough to make her pause. The heat only sucked the energy out of her and she mechanically thanked the guard and turned away, walking back toward the compound.

Her only shot at a future was over before it began. If she had felt lost after Elijah's demise, it was nothing compared to what she felt now. Christine had nowhere to turn, nothing to do. Her head was spinning and she felt somewhat like she couldn't breathe. She found herself wishing vaguely that she hadn't turned down Six's offer so quickly; a little time to figure out what she was going to do sounded nice. The Strip was a few days away, though, and Christine was sure she'd never make it onto the Strip without some sort of connections or more caps than she could imagine.

"Hey, you okay?" someone asked, catching her arm as she stared off into the distance. Christine jerked away on instinct, and the trooper that had caught her arm raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

Christine opened her mouth to respond but no words came, so she just snapped her jaw shut and shook her head dismissively.

"You look like you could use a drink," the trooper continued, mild concern on his face. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the barracks. "Bar's in there. Lotta us hate that we can't get through. Easiest way to forget is to drink until you can't see straight." When Christine didn't respond, he offered her a smile. "C'mon, at least get outta the sun. That's gotta be hell on your head."

She rubbed at her scalp absently and allowed herself to be led inside the chainlink fence toward the bar. The soldier was kind enough to buy her a drink and left her there with the glass and her thoughts.

Christine tried to think of herself as a free agent, no longer linked to any specific faction, but she couldn't help but feel the loss of the Brotherhood. The continued stripping away of her identity ached and she began sipping at the drink, attempting to console herself with the hope that the gate might be ordered open soon.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days passed in a similar fashion; Christine would drink until she couldn't stand herself anymore, then crash in a spare bunk one of the troopers offered her, only to get up and repeat it all the next morning. Her supply of caps was beginning to run low, though she didn't doubt that the bartender had taken one look at her scarred, brooding face and would do whatever was within reason to keep her happy.

She knew she'd need to move on eventually, find other places to go, maybe become a caravan guard or a mercenary, but she couldn't shake the hope that she'd get through. Christine pretended that wasn't a cover-up for feeling like she'd failed.

A few days after she'd arrived at the outpost, Christine was staring down into her alcohol and wondering what her chances would be if she tried to head east. Caesar's Legion was in the way, and she knew she'd probably get ripped apart before she could find a place to hide.

A horn sounded outside the building and everyone jerked to attention, some of the soldiers getting rifles ready and heading outside and others craning their necks to see out of the windows.

"Aw, hell, we got problems!" an NCR soldier moaned as he looked out of the window. "Soldier ants and scorps comin' up the hill!"

Christine scoffed into her glass, playing it off as a cough when the barkeeper shot her a confused look. It was no wonder Caesar was going to crush NCR; half the soldiers in the camp were scared of a few mutated bugs.

Most of the soldiers started panicking, and their terror was enough to catch the bald woman's attention. She downed the last of her drink and got up to see what all the fuss was about. Rather than even try to fight for a spot near the window, Christine headed out of the bar and into the compound.

She was a head shorter than everyone else, as usual, and couldn't see anything past everyone else's armored shoulders. The NCR soldiers were forming a defensive line just inside the fence, but none of them looked too eager to put themselves in danger.

Christine wanted to have a word with their commanding officer about the soldiers' cowardice, but however the NCR trained their soldiers wasn't really of any concern to her. She pushed through the line and studied the compound, spying the insects cresting the hill. She had plenty of time to do something, and a glance around the compound gave her an idea.

Much to the distress of the NCR soldiers, Christine opened the gate and walked out across the dusty road, heading to the remains of an old semi truck. Someone behind her hurriedly pulled the gate shut, but Christine paid them no mind, jogging around the truck to find the emergency ladder. She scaled it quickly, crawling along the top of the trailer and settling in. Sprawled out on her stomach, she pulled her rifle off her back and took aim as the mutated insects approached.

Her first shot cracked through the air and went wide, and Christine scowled through the sight and adjusted slightly. Her next bullet hit its mark and a bark scorpion flew to pieces. She grinned to herself and began picking off the rest of the bugs; despite everything she'd been through, she could still shoot. Finally, she was able to do something she enjoyed that Elijah hadn't stolen from her. Christine continued her careful squeezing of the trigger, her shots soon joined by the distinctive sound of a sniper rifle.

The rest of the attacking insects didn't stand a chance, and just as Christine emptied her clip, the other sniper took out the last radscorpion.

The soldiers that had been so terrified moments ago started cheering and many dispersed back to their barracks. Christine rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to heckle them. She reloaded her rifle so it would be ready in case she needed it, then slipped off the trailer and stretched.

The sniper that she'd been working with stood on the roof of the barracks, rifle in her hands. She lifted her hat to Christine, who waved in response, and returned to watching the road for attackers.

Christine was suddenly full of energy; she'd been useful for the first time in what felt like forever. The heat was oppressive and draining, but the bald woman was almost positive she could have taken down an entire squad of armed soldiers if she had the opportunity. A glance around the outpost put a stop to that; the dusty compound was once again dead and suffocating.

Christine frowned and shouldered her rifle, heading over to move the carcasses. Many of the bugs had been blown to pieces, which made them far easier to move; most of the giant radscorpions were just as big as she was. It didn't take long for her to work up a sweat, and by the time the job was done, she was in desperate need of a shower. Christine wiped the sweat out of her eyes as she returned to the building, surprised when a few of the soldiers clapped her on the shoulder or gave her appreciative smiles. Friendliness from NCR was still disconcerting, even though she had no reason to be against them anymore.

The bald woman stopped in the barracks to shower, the water that came spitting out of the pipes warm and not terribly refreshing. She sighed to herself, wondering whether or not she'd made the right decision in not returning to the Circle. At the very least, they had good running water.

She pondered the ups and downs of rejoining the sect, wondering how her elders would react to know that she hadn't been the one to end Elijah. The Circle was strict and terribly efficient. If they ordered a mission completed, it would be done, plain and simple. Elijah had made it complicated, throwing all sorts of twists and obstacles in her path; efficient was not a word she'd use to describe her chase of the old man. To top it all off, Six had been the one to actually complete the job, leaving Christine with nothing to show for herself but the broken shell she'd become. Returning to the Circle would be nothing short of shameful, and Christine didn't want to think about letting anyone else down. She'd already failed her parents and let Veronica down; disappointing the Circle was unthinkable. She'd be better off dead, and knew going back would never be an option.

Christine found herself back in the bar a few hours later, sipping at another drink and trying to forget who she was. A few more soldiers came to thank or congratulate her, but most left her alone when they saw the brooding look on her face.

Night fell while Christine pretended it was possible to drown in a shot of whiskey, though the passage of time was only obvious because of the troops coming in and out of the barracks. She sensed when everyone else went quiet and looked up to see the sniper that she'd helped earlier entering the bar.

The woman pulled off her sunglasses and tucked them in her breast pocket, studying the occupants of the building for a moment before striding toward Christine.

The scarred woman gave the sniper a wary nod of acknowledgement, not sure whether she was in trouble or not.

"You do nice work," the pale woman commented, giving Christine an admiring nod. "Haven't seen shooting like that since First Recon showed their stuff."

Christine shrugged. "Just something I was trained for."

The woman laughed. "Doubt scorp hunting was your main goal, but I'm glad all the same. Woulda been hell taking all them on with these rookies that barely know which end of their rifle goes 'bang.'" She waved the bartender over and bought Christine a drink, grinning at the bald woman lazily. "Gotta have some way to thank you."

Christine studied the woman for a moment. For being NCR, she wasn't bad. She almost reminded Christine of some of her fellows in the Circle, and a trace of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Thanks."

The woman nodded and lit up a cigarette, puffing on it a few times. "Got a name?"

Christine sipped at the glass cradled in her hand. "Royce."

"Ghost," the pale sniper returned, extending her empty hand to shake.

They sat in silence for a while, sizing each other up silently.

"You look like hell," Ghost informed Christine.

The scarred woman nodded once, not even bothered by the bluntness. "Had a bad run in with an Auto-doc."

Ghost hissed sympathetically. "Gimme a real doc any day. Don't trust those robots as far as I can throw 'em, and between you and me, those things weigh a fuckton."

Christine gave a bitter snort and downed the drink Ghost had gotten for her.

Neither of them said anything and Ghost ordered a shot, tossing a few caps on the counter while the bartender poured. The pale woman didn't touch the drink for a moment, studying Christine out of the corner of her eye.

"Ever thought about joining up? I'm stuck here instead of at the dam," Ghost explained bitterly, "but everyone knows the war's comin'. Be real nice to have a sharpshooter like you on our side."

Christine scoffed. "Don't think I'm quite what you're looking for."

Ghost didn't answer, just frowned down at her shot before gulping it down and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "Give it some thought, will ya? I've got connections if you decide you want in." She clapped Christine on the shoulder as she left, heading back out to her post.

The idea was ridiculous to Christine. What NCR soldier would want to join ranks with a former Brotherhood member? If it was reversed, Christine knew any NCR soldier hoping to join the Brotherhood would be laughed out of the Mojave. Then again, she mused, she'd be shunned by the Brotherhood too, so it wasn't exactly an equal comparison.

Christine swirled the amber liquid in her glass, thinking hard and trying not to all at the same time. With a sigh, she lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed the last of her drink, setting the glass aside and heading off to the barracks.

Sleep came slowly, and she tossed and turned all night long. She woke with a hangover pounding in her skull and a curious urge in her brain.

It was obvious to her that war was looming, and until it was over, the gate was going to stay shut. Christine didn't know how long that would take, but she was already getting fed up with waiting for an opportunity to get through. Her shot at rejoining a Brotherhood chapter was slim, and Christine didn't know if it'd be worth the long trip to the Core region. She'd imagined a hundred different ways she'd get rejected and a life as a mercenary in NCR territory would be nearly impossible.

Christine knew she was good at combat; it was what she'd trained for for the majority of her life. She loved the focus and precision sniping required, but she could hold her own in just about any situation. Giving up what she knew she was good at because one group didn't like her much felt wrong, and Christine wondered what exactly she had to lose.

The sun was still low in the east when Christine wandered out into the compound and to the roof of the bar.

Ghost was leaning against the wall, obviously bored as she puffed at her cigarette.

Christine walked up beside her quietly, not sure what to say.

A smirk grew on the pale sniper's face. "Yeah, you definitely trained well. Didn't even hear you coming up the ramp." She glanced over at Christine and studied her for a moment but remained quiet.

"Had to be quiet for my mission," Christine explained, following Ghost's gaze to the horizon. "I did some thinking."

"And?" Ghost turned a curious eye on the bald woman, blue-gray smoke curling out of her mouth.

Words seemed to stick in Christine's throat. "I'm... considering it." She watched as Ghost nodded once, trying to figure out what she wanted from the situation before being caught looking like a fool. "Got a few things I'd need to get straight about serving, but I'm considering it."

Ghost's smirk came back for a few seconds. "Okay." She didn't say anything else, just taking a drag on her cigarette and watching the desert for enemies.

"I'm not NCR," Christine said finally, uneasy in the silence Ghost seemed so comfortable in.

Ghost just shrugged. "I could tell. You're too wary around here to be NCR. So long as you're not Legion, doubt anyone's gonna care."

Christine wasn't sure about that and tried to change the subject slightly. "You never asked where I trained."

"You're good, what does it matter?"

"Does it matter if it was with the Brotherhood of Steel?" Christine's retort hung in the air between the women for a moment, and the bald woman hardly realized she was holding her breath.

Ghost was quiet. "Your CO must've been proud of you," she offered finally. "Why'd you leave?"

Christine felt her shoulders relax at the easy acceptance. Maybe she was making the right choice after all. "Exiled. Our Elder didn't like that I... Well, he didn't like that I was dating his female apprentice." Visions of Veronica danced in her head, but Christine forced them away with a sigh.

"Sounds like a backward kinda guy," Ghost responded, sounding almost sympathetic.

Christine scoffed. "He  _did_  try to hold Helios."

Ghost laughed at that. "That guy? Hell, no wonder! That bastard was a stubborn ass. Everyone lost more men than we needed to, and all for a couple hundred broken solar panels." She shrugged and turned another curious gaze on Christine. "Brotherhood or not, shouldn't be a problem. Some courier talked Colonel Moore into writing up a peace treaty with the Brotherhood. Rumor has it they'll be fighting on our side at the dam, but I dunno if I'd count on that."

That was news to the scarred woman and she filed it away to think about later. "Not sure I want to enlist as a full time soldier," she admitted, watching Ghost's lack of a reaction. "You think there's any way I can sign up for the battle at the dam and get out after that?"

Ghost nodded simply. "Entire Legion's coming at us; we're gonna take any help we can get. They'll probably wanna run you through boot camp, but it shouldn't be too much of a problem. 'Sides, I can probably pull a few strings for you." She winked at Christine conspiratorially.

Christine cracked a grin. "I'd appreciate it. I'm in."

Ghost extended a hand to shake, smiling all the while. "I'll talk to Jackson and tell him to set it all up for you. Dunno if you've got anything to pack, but I'd get on that if I was you. They're probably gonna want to ship you out ASAP."

Christine nodded and they talked a little more before she headed down the ramp and back to the barracks. It was a strange idea, fighting for NCR, but she had a purpose again, and part of her couldn't wait to be back on the battlefield where she belonged.


	4. Chapter 4

The quick training session she was put into reminded Christine of the Circle, only with NCR patriotism at almost laughably high levels. She'd been surprised by the number of other mercs or misfits that had joined up for the battle; her entire class was made up of them. Christine thrived as some of the others struggled, falling back into the role of soldier readily. The structure of the military was familiar and somewhat comforting, and she didn't regret joining.

They were drilled on both physical ability and NCR policies, which Christine found herself more sympathetic to than she'd expected. She guessed that her time chasing Elijah had opened her eyes to some of the flaws of the Brotherhood, and Christine realized that she and the NCR could get along better than she'd hoped. She still didn't want to be a permanent part of the army, but she was glad that she could sympathize a little with the cause she was supposed to be fighting for.

When she graduated the makeshift camp and was presented with her gear and a unit to join, Christine tugged the red beret on and was more proud of herself than she remembered being in ages. Accomplishing something and being part of a team once again felt good, even if it was under an NCR flag.

She and a few others that were being sent to the front traveled to the dam together, all being friendly and trading stories of mishaps they'd gotten into in their childhoods. Christine was grateful that Veronica had been rambunctious; she had plenty to tell and thinking of the brunette brought a fond smile to her face rather than regret and pain.

Once they arrived at the dam, each of them split off to find their units and were briefed on their duties. War was racing to meet them, and according to facility-wide announcements from Colonel Moore, Caesar was poised to strike at any time.

The familiar anxiety of a looming battle settled in the pit of Christine's stomach, and she wandered around the dam in her free time, studying the Pre-war architectural feat and learning the structure inside and out. The facility was huge, but it didn't take Christine long to have the basic layout memorized. The exploration got her frowned at by some of the patrolling NCR guards, but it also kept her nerves at bay.

Tensions were building, and Colonel Moore pulled all the sniper units into her office and briefed them on friendlies and who to take out. Christine was amazed at all the different groups on the friendly list; Khans, Brotherhood, and NCR all on the same side was something she never would have believed if it wasn't the Colonel saying it.

It was midmorning when the dam went on alert; spotters in one of the towers along the dam had seen the beginnings of the Legion's final preparations. Troops were ordered to gather and move to their positions, and Moore put a repeating broadcast up assuring everyone that this was not a drill and the first person to spot the courier needed to send him her way.

Christine and her squad found each other quickly and received their tower assignment, jogging to the surface and heading toward the tower. The squad leader was reiterating what Moore had told them and reminding them who not to shoot at as they approached the tower. Christine walked toward the ladder up the side of the tower while the rest of them headed to the tower's door.

"Hey, Royce, there's an elevator inside," one of the men offered, but Christine shook her head and suppressed a shudder. The thought of being stuck in a little metal room made her chest constrict and she knew having a panic attack in front of her squad mates would be a sure way to get in trouble.

"Meet you up there," she replied, shouldering her rifle and starting toward the ladder. The metal was hot under her hands, almost scalding her skin, and she scaled the rungs quickly, heaving herself over the top of the tower just moments after the rest of her team appeared from within.

"Moore says there's Legion troops moving around on the other side of the river," her squad leader informed her as she got to her feet less than gracefully.

Christine adjusted the beret and nodded as she pulled her sniper rifle off her back, looking east toward the mass of crimson tents and the Fort high on the hill. There was just enough breeze to get the flag to flutter every few seconds, but that was just enough to look ominous. Christine exchanged a glance with one of her teammates and shrugged, studying a nearby NCR flag and figuring out how to adjust her aim in the wind.

Someone brought up a few crates of .308 and Christine's squad settled into their positions around the tower's edge. Transmissions came crackling through on their radio and they listened while keeping an eye out for rogue legionaries coming across the dam.

Time ticked by while they waited, and finally someone called through the radio that the courier had arrived. The rest of Christine's team seemed bolstered by the news, and she idly wondered just how important a factor Six was in the whole thing before someone on the broadcast swore and the first shots rang out.

Battle exploded across the dam and Christine narrowed her focus to what she could see in her sights. Legion soldiers were pouring across the dam and coming out from inside the dam. Her squadmates let out confused yelps but kept firing, and they helped keep the Legion numbers down.

Christine crouched down and reloaded her rifle, hearing a roaring noise overhead. She looked up and saw a rusted old plane flying through the sky and cursed, ducking instinctively when she saw the plane's bay doors open. Bombs began falling and Christine hoped the pilot was on their side, poking her head up over the edge of the tower and watching as the bombs fell on the Legion's side of the dam and in the Fort.

Her squad leader cheered and someone on the radio told people on the ground to watch out for the Boomers' next sweep. Apparently Six had been busy getting NCR all kinds of allies, Christine mused with a grin, getting back into position and taking aim again.

The battle continued on, getting bloodier the longer it lasted. Legion fighters were coming across the dam at alarming rates and all of the sniper teams couldn't keep up or drop enemies without endangering their own men.

From down below, a roar started and one of the squad looked down at the river below.

"Oh Jesus," he groaned. "That's sick."

"What happened?"

"Legion must've been coming in through the turbines, and someone just turned them on."

The entire squad cringed at the thought. "Should keep them from getting too deep inside without us knowing it," one of the men offered, and the rest of the squad nodded.

Christine alerted them to more Legion rushing through the makeshift checkpoint and they focused their attention back to the fighting below.

The scarred woman dropped to reload again, popping back up as soon as she could. Down below, she noticed a small team working their way across the dam, all clad in different armor. She looked down through her sights and picked off a legionary approaching from behind the group before removing her finger from the trigger and studying the group.

Six was leading the little pack and Christine felt a friendly smile tug at the corner of her mouth. She kept an eye out for him, taking down as many of the legionaries rushing him as she could without endangering him or his friends.

Most of Six's party stayed far enough away that she had clear shots to many of the legionaries, but someone in his group seemed determined to bash as many Legions heads in as they could with their power fist. Christine was almost awed by the ferocity of the attacks, but she didn't have time to focus on it much; the trap door in the tower roof opened and a group of centurions started attacking from behind.

Christine swore and she wheeled around, reaching for her sidearm and rolling away from a slash with a Ripper. The rest of her squad was yelping in surprise and one of them didn't turn around in time; a ballistic fist collided with the back of his head and sent him flying over the edge of the dam.

One of the others snarled and jumped at the legionary, attempting to avenge his friend, and managed to jam a combat knife into a weak spot in the neck of the centurion's combat armor. The legionary staggered and, with a gurgled oath to Caesar, threw both himself and the NCR man on his back off the tower to the concrete below.

Christine fired her pistol at the centurion rushing her squad leader, sending him reeling long enough for the squad leader to finish him off.

The surviving members of the team looked at each other breathlessly and Christine swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

"Royce, back on sniping," the squad leader said shakily. "Danes, get that manhole sealed up."

Christine nodded and grabbed her sniper rifle, rolling over and crouching beside the concrete wall, picking off a few more Legion warriors before scanning the dam to look for Six again.

The courier hadn't made much progress, but there was a growing number of crimson-clad corpses around him and his group. No sooner had she felt a wave of relief for the man than did one of his companions jerk and fall to the ground, grabbing at their leg.

Six whirled and tried to provide fire support, waving over a medic for the wounded redhead. Christine kept as many would-be attackers as she could at bay, keeping an eye out for Six and his companions as they waited on a medic. There was a brief moment of peace and Christine watched the group through her scope, watching their reactions as the medical team finally ran up to their fallen comrade.

The wounded woman let out a yell and Six yelled right back, which only drew Legion attention. Christine trained her sights on the soldiers rushing toward the group, taking a few out before backing off as Six's hooded companion rushed in to take out the rest of them. Once the last soldier had fallen, the person whipped around to look at the group, the hood falling back onto her shoulders.

Christine froze, staring at Veronica through her scope. The battle suddenly sounded oddly quiet and her head was buzzing. Christine wondered vaguely if she was hallucinating, blinking hard and taking another look just to be sure. There was no mistaking Veronica, even after all the years it had been since Christine had last seen her.

Veronica heard someone rushing up behind her and turned, crashing her power fist into the centurion's jaw. Still watching through the sights of her rifle, Christine didn't miss the flash of pain across the brunette's face.

Before she knew what she was doing, Christine was halfway down the ladder. She heard her leader yelling after her, but she paid him no mind, sprinting over toward Six's group. She moved past the redhead and the medics surrounding her, ignoring the blond man in the strangely shaped suit of power armor, and making a beeline for where Six was standing with a steadying hand on Veronica's shoulder.

Christine's entire mind was focused on moving toward the woman she'd loved, and then Veronica was there in front of her, looking more wonderful than Christine remembered. The bald woman stood there helplessly, unable to speak or think properly with Veronica so close.

Veronica looked up and saw Christine, giving her a quick shake of her head. "Help Cass, she's actually hurt. I just twisted my ankle."

Christine was confused and somewhat terrified until she realized Veronica thought she was a medic, and was trying to think of something to say when Six turned around.

"Christine?" Whatever he had been planning to say was lost in the confusion and surprise that overtook the courier.

The bald woman tried to smile weakly, suddenly acutely aware of the scars lining her face. She saw something on Veronica's face change at the sound of her name, but chose not to look at her ex-girlfriend, not sure what to do with herself. "Hey, Six."

"What are you doing here?" the courier asked, raising an eyebrow.

She jerked her thumb at the tower behind her. "Sniping, but I saw... It looked like you could use some help."

"With NCR?"

Christine nodded. "Long story."

Six looked past Christine where Cass was laying on the ground, looking concerned before he turned his gaze back on the scarred woman. "Guess I oughta be grateful; looks like we could use your help." He gave her a glance. "Are you expecting to take on Caesar with a ten mil?"

Christine blinked and looked at herself, embarrassed a moment later. In her haste to get down from the tower, she had cast aside her sniper rifle and was left with only her sidearm.

The courier snorted, motioning to the pile of Legion bodies. "If you're comin' with us, at least get one of their guns."

Christine nodded and moved past Six and Veronica, scooping up an assault carbine and some ammunition. She straightened up and loaded the rifle quickly, pleased that it didn't jam. When she turned around, Veronica was studying her, but the brunette glanced away the second she was caught.

Christine did her best not to feel defeated, nodding to the ankle Veronica was favoring. "You okay?" The words left her mouth before she even thought about it and she cringed at the sound of Vera's voice leaving her lips.

Veronica pulled the hood back up over her head and shrugged. "I'll be fine once I get moving again." She wiped some blood off her power fist and looked over at Six, who had gone over to Cass again.

The redhead was obviously frustrated and kept trying to shove medics away and get up until Six yelled at her, and she started swearing right back. Six groaned and grabbed her shoulders, kissing her hard. That shut Cass up, and Six ordered the men to take her away and returned to Veronica and Christine with a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Took you long enough to do that," Veronica teased. "Once she gets over it, you're never gonna hear the end of it."

"Worth it," Six retorted, glancing over his shoulder to watch as the medics carted a still-flustered Cass away. "You two ready?"

Christine and Veronica nodded in unison, and Six called out to the man in the strange suit of power armor. "Arcade, let's go!"

Christine followed the courier as the group charged across the dam, helping drop legionaries whenever she could. Luckily for her, most of them seemed to be using the same guns, so running out of ammunition was rarely a problem. The never-ending onslaught of Legion forces made the journey across the dam take ages, and Christine found herself diving behind sandbags every few minutes to avoid getting shot. Her armor wasn't as heavy as she would have liked; a few bullets got too close for comfort and Christine wasn't sure she could trust the plating inside her armor to withstand it.

She hung back with Arcade and the courier, doing her best to keep the Legion from overwhelming Veronica. The scribe seemed determined to put herself in danger, running at centurions with her power fist raised.

"Does she ever think before she runs into the middle of all of them?" Christine groused to Six, squeezing her trigger and dropping a few soldiers.

Six scoffed, but didn't get a chance to respond; Arcade yelled at him and the men charged off toward one of the dam's intake towers to aid some NCR troops.

Christine dropped a soldier rushing at her and immediately looked for Veronica. The hooded woman was dancing around a centurion with a sledgehammer, and managed to get a successful hit in before a few legionaries surrounded her. Christine heard Veronica yelp, not sure if it was surprise or pain, and charged forward.

She grabbed the sledgehammer as she ran toward the crimson group surrounding Veronica, lifting it as high as she could and bringing it crashing down on the skull of the nearest Legion soldier. He crumpled to the ground and Christine filled him with lead just to be safe before turning her rifle on the other soldiers.

Veronica delivered a few crippling blows to the other soldiers, and after a moment they were standing there breathlessly, Legion dead all around them.

"Thanks," Veronica panted, offering Christine a grateful smile.

"What the hell was that?" Christine snarled, her heart pounding in her chest. "Dammit, Vee, they could have killed you!"

Veronica's eyes went wide. "'Vee?' Since when do you know my name?"

Someone called out a warning and Christine looked past the scribe, stepping around her and firing into the legionnaire coming their way.

"This is the worst possible time for this," Christine declared once the threat was gone. The dam shook with an explosion as the plane flew overhead again. Once the ground beneath her was steady, Christine gave Veronica a pleading look, willing the brunette to make the connection. She saw disbelief in Veronica's eyes and sighed. "Here," she said, tugging her dog tags over her head and handing them to Veronica. She belatedly hoped the people that had printed them had figured out how to spell her name; she couldn't have told them how, thanks to her visit to the Big MT.

Veronica stared down at the tags in her hand, her brow furrowing as she read over the information. She looked up, her eyes unreadable, and she opened her mouth to say something.

Christine waited, bracing herself for a verbal beating, but Six and Arcade came running up and dragged them further across the dam. The fight toward a makeshift building across the dam was brutal, with Legion pouring out of intake towers and from inside the dam's sniper towers.

Christine took a moment to glance back at the tower she'd abandoned, glad to see that her surviving teammates were still alive and firing. She turned back to the battle before her, yelping and ducking away as a super sledge came toward her. It caught her in the chest and sent her crashing back into the asphalt. Every breath hurt, but she couldn't quite get enough air, so Christine resorted to shallow breaths. She tried to look up and shoot at her attacker, but she had lost her gun in the attack.

The centurion leered down at her and lifted his foot to kick her, but a plasma shot hit him in the back and he let out a scream, twisting away and collapsing when Six shot a few bullets into him.

"You okay?" the man in the power armor asked, extending a hand to help her up.

Christine nodded, knowing she wasn't hurt bad enough to hinder the mission. "Thanks."

Arcade bent down and grabbed her gun, handing it back to her and waving her forward.

Six held open the door to the ramshackle building and ushered everyone inside. NCR guards were holding the door and they took a few moments to catch their breath.

Veronica pushed her hood back frustratedly and took to pacing around the little room. Christine's dog tags were still clenched in her fist and she kept rubbing her thumb over the name stamped into them and looked more and more upset with every moment.

Christine looked away from the scribe, unable to watch her anymore and see how much she was upsetting Veronica by simply being there. She leaned against a support post, doing her best to breathe evenly and not get dizzy. Hyperventilating in the middle of a battle would practically be signing her own death certificate.

"Everyone okay?" Six asked, surveying his companions. "I got a couple'a stimpaks..."

"Your new buddy took a hit in the chest," Arcade supplied, "but I think we're all okay."

The courier looked over at Christine and frowned. "You sure you're okay, Christine?"

She nodded. "Just gotta catch my breath."

Six gave Arcade a reassuring look, checking and reloading his rifle.

Veronica paused and took a deep breath, seeming to try to be calm for a moment before she gave up and marched over to Christine. "This had better not be some sick joke," she hissed, the glare on her face trying to hide the fear in her eyes.

Christine opened her mouth to answer, but didn't know what Veronica wanted to hear.

"You don't look like her, you don't sound like her, but you've got the same name. Who  **are** you?!" Her voice shook as she spoke and she seemed to tower over Christine.

Six paled. "Veronica, wait-"

"Shut up, Six!" the scribe yelled, wheeling around to glare at the courier. "How could you meet her and not tell me?!"

Six gave Christine a helpless look, backing away from the scribe uneasily.

"Veronica, it's me," Christine said quietly. "I just-I know you're confused. I know I'm... different than you remember. A lot... a lot happened."

The brunette looked ready to explode, but she glanced between Christine and the courier a few times, waiting for someone to explain. No one said anything and she focused her gaze back on the scarred woman. "Prove it," she ordered, her voice cracking on the words.

Something in Christine ached when Veronica's eyes filled with tears and she grappled for some sort of evidence, her mind going terrifyingly blank. Everything she could come up with sounded vague and generic, but finally a memory popped up and she latched onto it, the words falling out of her mouth in a jumble. "When we were sixteen I let you look at my notebook, and you found that poem I wrote about my feelings for you. When you started to read it, I panicked, but you wouldn't stop. Then you realized what it was about, and I think that was the first time I saw you speechless. I took a gamble and kissed you, and we started dating in secret." The story hung in the air between them, and Christine watched Veronica hopefully.

The scribe's shoulders sagged and she seemed to crumple as her breath left her in a rush.

Arcade and Six exchanged surprised looks, but neither of them said anything.

It took Veronica a few minutes to look up and meet Christine's gaze again, and when she did, her eyes were dull and unreadable. "I want to know what happened," she said quietly, her voice nearly drowned out by gunfire from outside the building.

"Later," Christine promised. "After the battle."

Veronica hesitated but gave a relenting nod. "Fine." She returned Christine's dog tags and turned away to compose herself, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and pulling her hood back on.

Six looked between his companions, throwing Arcade a shrug. "Small world," he decided eventually, lifting his rifle. "Ready to go take down the Legion once and for all?"

Christine tore her wistful gaze from Veronica's back and nodded at the courier, double checking that her rifle was ready for battle.

After Arcade agreed and Veronica managed a quiet nod, the group headed out onto the eastern half of the dam, heading the charge to the Legate's camp. NCR troops came up to join them, and the fight progressed slowly but surely back up to the Legion gate guarding the camp. Six was approached by a few Veteran Rangers who volunteered themselves to join the foursome, and the courier agreed immediately.

Before they charged into the camp, Six paused and gave his companions a meaningful look. "Be careful, guys."

The group agreed quietly and followed Six to the front of the mass of troops. The NCR soldiers opened the Legion gate and the courier and his companions lead the charge into the camp.

Christine kept her head low and had a death grip on her rifle as they started through the tall metal gate, heading into the Legion's camp.  She knew better than to hope that their arrival was a surprise and followed along behind the NCR Ranger between her and Six.  Veronica was somewhere to her left, but Christine didn't have time to look over and check on the scribe before yelling and gunfire erupted in front of her.

Praetorian guards came rushing up the hill toward them and Christine raised her rifle, squeezing the trigger and peppering a legionary with bullets.  She and a few other soldiers hung back and did their best to gun down the crimson-clad men running toward them, and Christine kept an eye on Veronica, relieved when the scribe ducked away from a Legion power fist.  The scarred woman took careful aim and sent a bullet toward the praetorian moving toward Veronica.  He jerked and fell over backward, blood leaking from the bullet hole in his skull.  

Someone yelled for everyone to move up, and Christine ran toward the Legion camp with her allies, wishing she had power armor.  Her brown trooper armor wasn't very strong, made for her to hide behind the stone walls of her sniper's nest.   At least it was some protection, she mused, attention caught when a Ranger in front of her was hit with a ballistic fist and went flying with a spray of blood.  She fired into the legionary with a snarl and once he hit the ground, she turned to search for Veronica.  

The entrance to the camp was filled with fighting, and she could barely hear herself think over all the yelling and gunfire around her. Someone screamed in pain and Christine's heart jumped into her throat, but then she saw Veronica deliver a fatal punch to a praetorian's jaw through a gap in the battle.

"Snipers!"

Christine wheeled around and counted the towers she could see.  Someone ran past her, toward the nearest tower's ramp, only to get a bullet lodged in their throat.  Christine leaped away, ducking behind a metal wall.  She reloaded her rifle, wished she had a scope, then stepped back out into the fray and took aim.  

The Legion sniper was busy tracking someone with his rifle, and Christine squeezed off a careful shot, swearing when her shot went low and exploded against the sandbags guarding the sniper.  She adjusted quickly, aware of the sniper turning his attention on her, then fired again before jumping back behind the wall.  An NCR Ranger out in the battle saw what she had done and gave her a thumbs up and a grin.  "Nice shot!"

Christine grinned and nearly ran back out into the battle before an idea occurred to her.  She turned and headed for the sniper tower she'd just emptied, jogging up the ramp and finding the sniper she'd just killed.  His rifle was still in his hands, and Christine plucked it out of the dead man's grasp, checking the alignment and shaking her head at the state of the weapon.  Apparently the Legion didn’t care much for weapon maintenance.  

Christine reloaded the rifle from an ammunition case and moved to the sandbag wall, resting against it and taking aim at the other towers.  For a moment, she was back in Big MT, aiming at Elijah's watchtower, but angry Latin from below her brought her back to reality.  She shook herself and focused on the present, lining up a shot with the nearest sniper tower.

The Legion snipers had apparently missed her attack on their ally and she started picking them off, one by one.  The ringing gunshots brought a smile to her face and she promised herself that she’d save up and buy herself a new sniper rifle.  

She cleared out three other towers and couldn't see anymore, proud of herself for doing it so quickly.  Christine slung the NCR rifle over her back and kept the sniper rifle as she headed back down to the fighting.  Even though she hadn't been in the tower for very long, NCR had made considerable progress, and Christine ran around a rock cliff and toward the group. She could see Six and Arcade heading the charge up the hill to a crimson tent and wondered if she could charge through the large group fighting between her and the hill to go aid the courier.

The crowd in front of her shifted and she saw Veronica jump toward a legionary, while a grenade exploded in the spot the scribe had just been.  NCR soldiers took the brunt of the explosion, though a few Legion men fell to the ground and didn't move.  Christine scooped up a machete from a nearby corpse and ran into the crowd, landing a few solid hits that allowed other NCR soldiers to deliver fatal blows to their opponents.  

Someone punched her in the jaw and sent her reeling, and she lifted the sniper rifle and pressed the barrel up against the praetorian's chest before squeezing the trigger.  The guard fell to the ground and Christine's dropped the sniper rifle to the ground.  Firing at something point blank had broken the already poorly maintained rifle, and it was dead weight to her now.

She pulled the assault rifle off her back and continued hacking through the crowd, helping anyone within reach.  Christine was headed for Veronica, but part of her was hesitant in case she got in the way of the already-upset scribe's power fist.  

As the Legion forces thinned, the able-bodied NCR soldiers ran up the hill to help Six, and Christine started aiming at the more heavily armored legionaries, firing at them and taking them down before they killed off the NCR forces.  

After cutting down another praetorian, Christine paused for breath and surveyed the battlefield.  The large crowd had been reduced to a few smaller pockets of fighting, and Christine was beginning to think they had a shot at winning.  

The loud crack of a gunshot reached her ears as something slammed into her shoulder, and Christine went stumbling across the dirt with a yelp of pain.  Her arm felt like dead weight and she turned slightly to see who had shot her, only to have another report ring out over the din.  Searing pain exploded in her gut and she felt herself hit the ground.

The world swam before her and she was vaguely aware of her hands being slick with blood.  Someone screamed her name and Christine's eyes fell closed, the battle around her fading into blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

The darkness surrounding Christine gave way to pain as she regained consciousness, and she did her best not to groan as her eyes opened. She stared up into the dimly lit tent, wondering if the canvas ceiling was some sort of Legion prisoner tent. Flashes of the battle came back to her and Christine vaguely remembered taking a bullet. The Legion wouldn't have helped save her, and she relaxed, realizing the courier must have won.

She tried to sit up, but pain exploded through her and she fell back against the pillow with a grunt. Just laying there, she could feel the impact points of a few different bullets and grimly wondered how many more times she'd wake up with new scars.

"Hey."

Christine looked over to the source of the voice, surprised to see Veronica sitting cross legged on the ground beside the mattress she was laying on. The scribe had exchanged the armor she'd worn for an NCR T-shirt and loose jeans, looking much less menacing. There were far off sounds of laughter and celebration, but Veronica seemed unfazed by them. Christine wondered briefly how long she'd been unconscious, but was more concerned with the emotions swirling in Veronica's eyes.

"We won," Veronica said simply, not making eye contact.

"You should be out there celebrating," Christine croaked, wincing at the dryness of her throat.

Veronica just shrugged and stared at her hands in her lap. "Didn't feel like it."

Something seemed off about Veronica, and in Christine's hazy-minded state, it took her a few minutes to place it. "Where's your hood?"

Veronica shrugged. "Had to use something to keep you from bleeding out."

Christine blinked and wondered what happened, only to have Veronica start explaining.

"NCR rushed the Legion camp, and I guess we missed a sniper," the scribe said softly. "I heard one shot and turned around to see you staggering, and then another bullet hit and..." Veronica swallowed hard and looked away. "You were losing a lot of blood, and I didn't have anything else."

The thought that Veronica had been the one to tend to her didn't register right away in Christine's mind, but she managed a "thank you" once it did. She couldn't quite place the warm feeling in her chest and settled for a bleary grin in the scribe's direction.

Veronica nodded and exhaled shakily, swiping a hand over her eyes and biting her lip.

Silence settled between them, and Christine tried a few more times to shift into a more comfortable position, only to have her body respond with aches and searing pain. She swore under her breath, resigning herself to laying still.

"Need me to get a doctor?" Veronica asked, still sounding somewhat hollow.

Christine considered it for a second, but the thought that Veronica might not return scared her, so she just shook her head. "Lived through worse." Her mind was foggy and her limbs felt like they weighed a few tons each, and Christine guessed that whatever medicine she'd been given hadn't worn off yet.

The scribe nodded hesitantly and finally looked up at Christine. "Like when you got those scars?"

Memories of waking up in Big MT with the freshly stitched scars across her scalp burning in the cool air flashed through Christine's mind and she tried not to cringe. She nodded, the motion making her head spin.

Veronica was quiet for a minute, then sighed and dropped her gaze to her lap once again.

Christine watched her silently, trying to center herself and ward off unconsciousness, but could feel the pain and her own exhaustion breaking down her resolve. Still, having Veronica so close for the first time in years made Christine desperate not to lose her; she didn't want to miss her only shot to explain herself and try to fix things between them. "Gonna stay if I go to sleep?"

Veronica's eyes flicked up to meet hers almost curiously, and she studied Christine for a second. "Yeah," she responded softly.

The word was more comforting than Christine expected, and she smiled slightly before her eyelids fluttered closed and darkness swept her away once again.

=====:=====

When Christine woke again, sunlight was streaming in through holes in the canvas and a medic was crouching at a wounded soldier nearby. She still ached and felt like she'd been hit with a battering ram in a few different places, but her head was clearer than it had been.

She found she could turn her head without getting dizzy and took a look around the tent, somewhat surprised at how many bodies were in the oblong structure. A glance to her right showed that Veronica was no longer in the tent and Christine pretended she wasn't bothered by the knowledge. Movement coming toward her made her look over, and Christine saw a weary doctor crouching beside her.

"Good morning," the doctor murmured, taking Christine's wrist lightly in his hand and checking her pulse. He nodded and moved to check the bandages wrapped around Christine's middle. "How're you feeling?"

The bald woman shrugged. "A little worse for wear, but I'll survive." She couldn't help but cough due to how dry her throat was and the doctor gave her a sympathetic glance. He got up and retrieved a water bottle, bringing it back to her and helping her take a few careful sips.

Christine thanked him quietly, trying to figure out where she'd been hit based on the bandages the doctor was checking. She craned her neck to see the extent of the damage when he lifted a wrapping on her stomach, but the doctor waved her concern away.

"Your armor stopped most of it. A few fragments got through and tore you up pretty bad. Nothing life threatening," he added quickly. "Just gonna hurt for a while."

Christine nodded; it already stung thanks to the exposure to the air, but there was a deep-seated ache beneath the wound that would no doubt hurt more than the skin. "What else is there?"

The doctor chuckled and shook his head. "You tough types are all alike. You took one in the arm, too, not quite as messy but a little worse. Been keeping it as numb as I can for you." He caught the look on her face and nearly rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, you'll still be able to shoot straight enough to make it count."

She wasn't so sure, since the slightest tremble could make or break a shot, but chose not to argue and let him complete the rest of his exam in silence.

"Looking pretty good. Try not to get up; that stomach wound won't like you moving around very much," he announced when he was done. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Got a stimpak or something?" she asked, more aware of the pain now that she knew what had happened to her.

The doctor gave her a sympathetic shrug. "Lotta guys got hurt; our stimpak supplies are running low. Colonel Moore ordered we reserve them for severe cases only."

Christine resisted the urge to scoff; she'd expected more from such a large army. "Equal parts of broc flower and Xander root," she informed him. "Boil 'em together for a few hours and put it in a syringe. It works pretty well in a pinch."

The doctor paused and considered it for a few moments, glancing out at the wounded men in the tent. "I'll run it by the colonel," he decided, giving her a grin. "Thanks." He patted her leg and got to his feet, wandering through the wounded and checking on a few of them before ducking out of the tent.

Left alone again, Christine was acutely aware of Veronica's absence. She consoled herself by considering the still-there chill in the air, reasoning that it was early in the morning and the scribe was most likely still asleep somewhere out of the way. Besides, Christine knew it was ridiculous to hope that things between them could be any semblance of normal.

She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face, her fingertips brushing across the scars. Just the sensation was enough to bother her, and she scowled at nothing in particular, doing her best to ward off feelings of insecurity and worthlessness.

Christine tried her best to go back to sleep, but her mind was buzzing and she was left with her thoughts.

Someone stepped into the tent, casting a shadow for a moment, and Christine lifted her head, surprised to see Six picking his way toward her. He had a sling underneath one arm and a few scratches and bruises on his face, but he didn't look too much worse for wear.

"Hey," he said with a grin, looking tired but relaxed and happy. The courier dropped to the ground beside her bed with a grunt. "How're you feeling?"

"Be better once I get a few stimpaks," she answered, grateful for the man's company. "How'd the battle go?"

Six's face darkened slightly, but he shrugged. "We made it into the Legate's camp and the bastard came down to meet us. Took a lot of men and longer than I was hoping, but we ended up taking him down." He followed her gaze to the sling and cracked a grin. "Dunno if you saw, but he had this huge sword. I didn't get outta the way in time and he broke my collarbone and tore up something in my shoulder. Should heal up okay, according to the doc."

Six talked a little more about the battle, then moved on to talking about the redhead that had been injured. Apparently the pair had been dancing around their feelings for each other for ages, and Six finally took a chance. Christine noticed the contentment in the courier's eyes and part of her wondered if that would ever happen for her.

"Anyway, sorry to talk your ear off," Six said finally, rubbing the back of his neck and looking somewhat embarrassed. "I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing."

Christine put a smile on and shrugged once more. "Thanks."

The courier sat there for a few moments, silence settling between them. He sighed and gave the bald woman a careful look. "About Veronica..."

Christine raised her eyebrows, her stomach twisting uncertainly at the tone of his voice.

"I didn't know you two were ever together," the courier admitted quietly. "Hell, I didn't even know you swung that way."

"You never asked, and it's not like it's easy to express something like that in improvised sign language," Christine retorted. "You were right, though. Small world."

Six nodded thoughtfully, staring at the ground for a few moments. There were questions in his eyes when he looked at her again, but he seemed to respect her boundaries and didn't bombard her with questions. "You guys gonna be okay? I mean... She hasn't said much, but I gathered that you didn't split on good terms."

Christine felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. It was Elijah's fault, she reminded herself, even if she had rushed the whole thing and hurt Veronica in the process. "Not really. Elijah..." She swallowed hard, unable to say more.

The name served as answer enough and Six frowned slightly. "I didn't really tell her what happened at the Madre." Six's voice was quiet and regretful. "I got so wrapped up in preparing for the battle, I hardly had time to sleep. You're the only one that knows, really, and that's because you were there."

There was a beat of silence filled with memories of Elijah's greedy game, and they shuddered together.

"I'll tell her about it, if you want," Six offered at length. "I can explain about-"

"Royce!"

The courier jolted at the intrusion and swore under his breath at the jarring of his broken collarbone. Christine cringed, looking up to see her squad leader at the foot of her mattress. He was frowning down at her, though there was sympathy in his eyes.

"Sir," she responded meekly.

"You abandoned the squad under fire," the officer groused. "I should write you up for that. Could get you court martialed. What were you thinking?!"

"Hey," Six interjected, his brow furrowed defensively. "Lay off! She saw one of my buddies get shot and came to help."

The officer paused and glanced at the courier, only realizing who Six was after a few uncomfortable moments. The squad leader paled and looked between Six and Christine uncertainly. "... Royce?"

Christine didn't like the idea of being stuck in a cell when she was supposed to be getting out of the military, so she took the opportunity. "Happened to see one of Six's friends get hit through my scope, sir. Six and I know each other from... before. Didn't want to see anything bad happen to him."

The officer considered the story for a moment and sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Look, Royce... You want out, right? I mean, that's what you signed up for?"

Christine nodded, but the squad leader didn't notice.

"I'd hate to see you get dragged through all that bullshit right before you're discharged. You're a good shot and a good teammate." He looked her in the eye and offered her a halfhearted smile. "I'm not gonna file a report. Thanks," he added, looking at both of them. "NCR would've had a hell of a time if you guys hadn't been there."

He saluted, and Six lifted a hand in a wave, while Christine returned the salute. The officer grinned once more and produced a red beret from under his arm. "Here, mementos of your service," he said, handing the beret to Six, who set it near Christine. The soldier wished Christine a quick recovery, and ducked back out of the tent.

Six stared after the officer for a moment, giving Christine a bewildered look. "You abandoned your post?"

The scarred woman nodded, not making eye contact. "Was keeping an eye on you through my scope, and then I saw Veronica, and... Next thing I knew I was running toward you guys." Despite the shame she felt for not following her duty, Christine was relieved that she'd avoided getting arrested for her error.

Six blinked. "Oh." He glanced out into the tent as someone weakly got the medic's attention, frowning sympathetically and shaking his head.

"Thanks," Christine said, startling herself with the suddenness of the word. She saw the courier's confusion and quickly added on an explanation. "For getting me outta that with my CO."

Six relaxed and smiled. "No problem. You saved my life, I gotta help you out now and then."

Christine shifted on the bed, unable to stifle a little gasp of pain as the stitches in her stomach pulled. "Great, then get me a couple hundred stimpaks so I can move without feeling like I'm ripping my guts out."

Six gave her a sympathetic smile. "I think we used all of mine during the attack at the camp, sorry."

"It'll heal," Christine muttered dismissively.

Six nodded and sighed before getting to his feet. "I'll let you rest."

Christine grunted in response, but a thought occurred to her and she looked up at him. "If you see Veronica..."

The courier adjusted his sling and nodded. "I'll try and talk to her. She's been keeping to herself a lot; I don't think she's very happy with me right now." He said his goodbye and left, and Christine was alone with her thoughts once again.


	6. Chapter 6

When the doctors did their mid afternoon rounds, the same one that had examined Christine's wounds dropped by to tell her that Colonel Moore had given her makeshift recipe the okay, and scouts were out collecting ingredients as they spoke.

Christine was glad of that; her wounds were both aching. The bullet hole in her shoulder was starting to regain feeling and she almost wished she was still unconscious. Every time she moved, her arm felt like it was on fire.

Veronica returned later in the day, quietly coming to stand at the foot of Christine's bed. Her eyes were downcast and she didn't make eye contact. "Sorry I wasn't here," she mumbled. "I... needed some time."

Christine considered a smart remark, having come up with at least a hundred of them in the time since the courier had left, but just nodded understandingly; she knew that feeling far too well.

Veronica sighed and finally looked up to meet the scarred woman's gaze. "Is it okay if I sit?" When Christine nodded again, the scribe moved around and lowered herself to the ground beside the bed, noticing the beret near Christine's pillow.

"You joined NCR," she pointed out, the question obvious despite her flat tone.

"Didn't have anything else," Christine answered quietly. Her mind flicked back to the hazy, empty days at the Mojave Outpost. "Brotherhood kicked me out, the Circle probably thinks I'm dead, and... they needed someone."

Veronica frowned. "You left the Brotherhood," she corrected, raising an eyebrow as though daring Christine to explain.

The bald woman scoffed. "Not by choice. Elijah threw me out."

"But your parents-"

"Were just as disgusted and disappointed in me as Elijah was," Christine grumbled, angry with herself for letting the memory still affect her so much all these years later. "I was wrong, sick, somehow, and they couldn't have me around, corrupting anyone else. Especially not you. No one was sad to see me go, Vee."

Veronica looked stung and hugged her knees to her chest. "I was," she mumbled.

Christine's heart sank and she looked over at the girl she'd loved. Veronica looked completely torn down, and she was, Christine supposed. She couldn't imagine what was going through the brunette's head and she sighed. "Sorry. I should have explained or convinced you to leave, or... Sorry."

The scribe was quiet for a while, just sitting there while Christine pretended her entire being didn't ache. Finally she looked up. "Six told me about how you guys met. And about Elijah."

Christine shifted slightly, propping herself up on her uninjured arm and giving Veronica a careful nod.

Veronica's eyes betrayed her and went to the scars lining Christine's skin. "Is that... were those...?" She looked afraid of the answers, but the need to know was obvious in her eyes.

"Not directly," Christine answered after a moment. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, she focused her gaze on Veronica and tried to smile reassuringly. The scarred woman opened her mouth and the entire story of her joining the Circle and chasing Elijah came pouring out of her. She told about the scars and the times she'd nearly been killed on her mission, ending at the Sierra Madre when Veronica nodded.

"Six told me about that," the scribe murmured, her eyes downcast as she sorted through all the new information in her head. She opened her mouth and frowned slightly, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. "Were you... really trying to kill him? Elijah?"

Christine nodded hesitantly, not sure she liked where the conversation was heading. "It was my mission. He was putting people in danger, committing crimes and destroying tech in his search for revenge. What was I supposed to do?"

"You could have just arrested him," Veronica pointed out, her eyes shining with tears.

Christine scoffed. "He tried to kill me every time I got close. Hell, he almost managed it a few times. It's thanks to him I got caught and had those robots digging around in my skull."

The frown on Veronica's face deepened and she held her tongue.

Christine gestured at her face, pointing to where she knew the scars were. "This is all because of him, Veronica. I look like a friggin' Super Mutant, my voice is gone and I have to use some Pre-war singer's voice, I lost my family and the only girl I ever loved, and I can't even read anymore! It's Elijah's fault, all of it. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for him."

Veronica looked like she was barely keeping her composure, and Christine wondered if the hurt in the scribe's eyes was for the monster that Elijah had been. "He was trying to help the Brotherhood."

"Well he went about it all wrong," Christine grumbled. Elijah had been dangerous; everyone seemed to be able to see it except for Veronica, and they'd already had this argument a hundred times in the past. She suspected the time that had passed had only solidified the glorified image in Veronica's mind.

The brunette was quiet for a moment. "... Was it worth it?" she asked finally, her tone cold. "Killing him?"

"I didn't. Six did." Christine cringed at the venom in her own voice and bit her lip uncomfortably. "It's worth it to know he's dead and can't hurt anyone anymore. Especially... I never knew if you were with him, and until I first caught up to him and saw he was alone, I was terrified for you, Vee."

"So you wanted to kill the only person I could consider family?" Veronica retorted bitterly.

"No, look, I-" Christine groaned and dropped back onto the mattress. "Veronica, I didn't sign up for that mission just to hurt you. Hell, I didn't even volunteer! The Circle picked me because I had some experience with him and knew how he operated."

The scribe was silent. She looked over at the scarred woman and studied her for a minute, her eyes guarded and angry. "See ya," she said finally, getting to her feet and brushing herself off.

"Veronica-"

The scribe ignored her and left the tent.

Christine groaned again and threw her good arm over her eyes, hoping to block out the world and the frustration overwhelming her.

=====:=====

The doctors came by the next day with a fresh batch of makeshift stimpaks, based on Christine's suggestion, and started administering them to the wounded. Christine had forgotten how much the concoction made her skin burn, but the prickling sensation of healing tissue made it all worthwhile.

After a few applications, one of the doctors came over and examined her, seeming surprised at how well the substitute had worked. He gave her a smile and told her she could get up and walk around, so long as she didn't overexert herself.

Christine jumped at the chance and the doctor helped her to her feet, steadying her as she swayed uncertainly. She regained her balance after a few seconds and thanked him, moving out of the tent and out onto the dam.

Being mobile again felt fantastic and Christine did a few laps around the tent to get her muscles used to moving again. One of the soldiers coming out of the dam noticed and recognized her, waving her over and congratulating her on healing up. He ushered her down inside the dam and they went to the mess hall together.

Across the room, Christine spotted Six and Cass sitting together and her heart sank. Veronica wasn't among the group, and Christine entertained the thought that the scribe had left the dam entirely to escape being around her. All the bald woman had wanted was a chance to apologize and explain herself, maybe to provide some closure for both of them. She'd only succeeded in pissing off the woman she'd cared about, and the knowledge stung. Her appetite was gone, but she ate a little to humor the soldiers around her, getting up and slipping out of the mess hall and back outside.

She considered climbing one of the towers and spending some time on the roof, but her shoulder ached just thinking about it, so Christine retreated to the medical tent and sank back onto her bed, trying her best to avoid thinking about anything.

=====:=====

Six came by to talk to her the next morning, looking pleasantly surprised to see Christine sitting up and moving around without much pain. He got his hands on a few of the homemade stimpaks and injected them, making a face at the sensation before brightening.

They talked for a while, mostly about future plans, and Six mentioned staying in Vegas for a while until the area was stable. Christine told him of her plans to head west and petition another Brotherhood chapter to let her in, but she didn't know if she wanted that anymore. The idea of walking off on her own and letting the wastes swallow her up was somewhat appealing, but she opted not to mention that.

The courier seemed to realize that Veronica was a sore point, and did his best not to mention her during their conversation. When he was getting up to leave, he stretched and smiled at the bald woman. "Better go make sure Cass hasn't roped Arcade and Veronica into some wacky scheme to get back at me for somethin' or other."

Christine perked up. "Veronica's here?"

Six cringed. "Uh, yeah. Sorry. I didn't want to upset you."

"I thought she'd left," Christine replied, sitting up and rubbing a hand over her face. "Figured I missed my shot to apologize."

The courier gave her a strange look and shook his head. "Nah. She's been keeping to herself a lot, but she's still here." He glanced between Christine and the door. "Dunno what she's been doing, but she seems to always be out on the dam walking around."

Christine nodded and turned the information over and over in her head. Veronica was still here; she still had a chance to make things right. "Thanks, Six."

He nodded and ducked out of the tent, his absence going unnoticed. Christine started to get up and follow his lead, but one of the medics came over and wanted to check her injuries. She had no idea what she was going to say so she let the medic do his job and used the time to think.

The medic deemed her stomach wound healed enough to not need a bandage anymore, but he changed the wrapping on her shoulder and injected a stimpak just below the bandage. "Check it in a couple of days. Unless it starts hurting, I think you're done here." He grinned at her. "Congratulations, soldier."

Christine returned the smile distractedly, grabbing her beret and nearly dropping the dog tags that were tucked inside it. "I'm supposed to get out after the battle. Anywhere I need to go and do that?"

The medic nodded. "Colonel Moore'll give you your pay and take care of all that. Know where her office is?"

Christine reeled off the directions and the medic chuckled.

"Thanks for serving. Good luck," he told her, getting to his feet and moving to tend to other patients.

Christine got up and looked at the beret and tags in her hands. She had no use for them, and the longer she waited to get her discharge, the more likely she was to be added to a unit and shipped out. Given that she still had no idea what to say to Veronica, she headed off toward the offices, pretending she wasn't stalling.

Colonel Moore looked tired, but her quick, blunt manner was still in place. She took back the beret, but shook her head when Christine tried to hand over the dog tags. "We've got no use for them. Keep 'em." The colonel went through a few papers, signing where she needed to. "Can you write?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Christine.

The bald woman shook her head, almost ashamed to admit it. Literacy wasn't terribly common among the enlisted men, but she still hated that she'd lost that ability.

Moore nodded brusquely and scribbled a few more things on the sheet, dipping a stamp in ink and pressing it to the page. She looked up at Christine and a polite smile worked its way onto her face. The colonel stood and extended her hand to Christine. "Thank you," she said, pumping Christine's hand a few times. "Clerk is just down the hall. You take him this paper," she ordered and handed over a sheet, "and he'll give you your compensation."

Christine saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

The colonel nodded and sat back down, starting to sort through other papers.

Christine knew she was dismissed and headed off to find the clerk, feeling somewhat relieved that the process was fairly simple. It was one less thing to worry about and Christine was grateful.

The clerk's office was little more than a supply closet with a cash register and a safe, but Christine exchanged the slip for a modest sum of caps and took her leave of the offices. She climbed the stairs back to the dam exterior and took a deep breath.

Fighting in the battle had given her a goal, but now that it was over, Christine wasn't sure what she was going to do with her life. The same ideas that had occurred to her before joining NCR came back to her, but she couldn't focus on much of anything. Six's words echoed in her mind and she looked out over the expanse of the dam, trying to spot Veronica ambling along the concrete.

She didn't see anyone moving and shoved away disappointment, walking out onto the dam herself to try and find the brunette.

Christine had crossed nearly halfway across the dam when she finally saw the scribe leaning against the wall, looking out at the lake. The bald woman paused, not sure what to do now that she'd found her, but eventually she started moving toward Veronica again.

Veronica heard her and glanced over, looking at Christine for a moment before returning her gaze to the water.

"Hey," Christine tried, stopping a few yards away.

Veronica didn't respond for a minute, then sighed and hung her head slightly. "Hi."

That she got an answer at all was encouraging and Christine swallowed. "Can we talk?"

The scribe nodded slowly, and Christine moved over to the wall beside her, still keeping a comfortable distance between them.

"I..." Christine studied the woman beside her, trying to figure out how to express what she wanted to say. "Look, I'm sorry. For everything." The words weren't as hard to get out as she had expected and she blazed on before she lost her nerve. "I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did, and for griping about Elijah, and... I'm sorry."

There was a silence, water lapping against the side of the dam in time with Christine's nervous heartbeat.

"I did see some of the reports about what he was doing," Veronica admitted quietly. "I just... didn't want to believe it, I guess."

"I didn't lie to you," Christine promised, her voice earnest as she shifted her weight uncertainly.

Veronica didn't say anything until a heavy sigh escaped her. "I know." She saw Christine's confusion and smiled faintly. "You always used to drum your fingers on something when you were lying."

Christine blinked. "I did?"

The brunette nodded and her shoulders relaxed slightly. "That's how I always knew when you were sneaking out of the archives to see me instead of waiting until your shift was over. All I had to do was ask and you'd start tapping on your leg." She laughed softly before her face grew sad. "Everything's changed, Christine."

Christine felt like her heart was being ripped to pieces at the sorrow in Veronica's voice. She grappled for something to say, but knew that there wasn't anything she could do to make it better.

"I mean, so much has happened since you left, and now you're here again, and..." Veronica sighed, turning her head to meet Christine's gaze. "I don't even really know you anymore."

The words hurt, but Christine understood that they weren't an attack. It was true, she'd noticed it herself. Veronica seemed different somehow. She looked like she'd been through a few tough situations of her own, but she appeared to be better for it. Christine had slowly came to the realization that she didn't really know Veronica at all, only the memories of her from years ago.

The bald woman nodded slowly. "Do you want to?" she ventured. "Try to get to know each other again, I mean."

Veronica frowned and gave her a concerned look. "Don't you?"

Christine bit her lip. "If you do."

The scribe blinked and a half-hearted laugh escaped her. "You still suck at making decisions." She sighed and glanced back out at the water. "Yeah, Christine, I... I missed you."

Christine watched Veronica duck her head embarrassedly, unable to stop the corner of her mouth from lifting in a smile. "I missed you too, Vee. I still dream about you sometimes, and the way things were." Her ears felt warm but Christine saw Veronica's shoulders relax and decided blushing was worth it. "I mean, I know it can't be the same, but, I don't know... Maybe we can be friends?"

Veronica looked up and gazed at Christine, a genuine smile growing on her face. "I'm game if you are."

Christine let out the breath she hadn't realized she was hold and grinned. "Hi," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Christine."

Veronica raised an eyebrow and chuckled, but went along with it. "I'm Veronica, nice to meet you."

The tension in the air between them eased and they both relaxed.

"You look like you're feeling better," Veronica observed.

The bald woman nodded. "They made some, uh, homemade stimpaks. Helped a lot." She tucked her hands in her pockets, shrugging her uninjured shoulder. "Thanks, by the way. For saving me."

Veronica swallowed. "I wasn't gonna let you die. But... can we not talk about that? Not yet?"

Christine offered the brunette an apologetic look. "Sorry. Yeah, that's fine."

Neither of them were quite sure what to say and they remained silent. Christine didn't want to pick the wrong topic and get Veronica mad at her again, but took some comfort from the fact that they were able to make eye contact and smile at each other again.

"Do you want to set some ground rules?" she offered after a moment or two. "So we know what's okay to talk about?"

Veronica looked surprised but gave her a grateful nod. "That sounds good."

Elijah and the Brotherhood were immediately declared off-limits, though the understanding in Veronica's eyes made Christine relax; if Veronica was willing to try to understand, accidental slip ups might not lead to a full-blown fight. They agreed on not talking about a few other things, mostly just tense spots between them, and when it was over, they both felt calmer.

With the boundaries in place, conversation was easier between the pair, and it only took a few minutes of commenting about the weather and the architecture of the dam for them to feel more comfortable around each other.

Christine tucked her hands into her pockets again, her fingers curling around her dog tags. She pulled them out of her pocket and looked at them, studying the symbols on the small metal plates and wishing she could read them.

Veronica followed her gaze and frowned at the tags. "I guess you're a full-blown NCR soldier, huh?" She considered it for a moment and shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. "Weird."

Christine chuckled. "Not anymore. I got the colonel to let me out; didn't really feel like being in there for longer than they needed me."

Veronica raised her eyebrows. "So you're not gonna get shipped off to God knows where tomorrow?"

Christine shook her head and jingled the tags absently.

The scribe visibly relaxed and grinned at Christine. "Good to hear." She watched Christine test the weight of them in her palm, cocking her head when the bald woman glanced over the edge of the dam. "What are you plotting?"

Christine gave Veronica a curious look and shrugged. "NCR doesn't want them and I don't need them. I may as well get rid of them." She watched to see if Veronica was going to get onto her, but the scribe just shrugged and grinned.

"Bet you can't hit that buoy," Veronica teased, pointing out at one of the large, rusty buoys floating a few hundred feet away.

Christine tossed her a challenging grin and wound up theatrically, flinging the tags out over the side of the dam. They fell far short of their goal, not even making it halfway, but they both started laughing and nothing else seemed to matter.

Christine couldn't remember the last time she'd really laughed, and the fact that she was sharing the moment with Veronica made it all the more special. She felt somewhat normal again, like she was back to being seventeen with little more to worry about than whether or not Ibsen would catch her not working in the archives.

Veronica gazed at Christine with a curious, almost hopeful smile on her face. She looked like she wanted to say something but refrained and looked back toward the dam. "You hungry? I haven't eaten in... well, all day, I guess."

The stress that had had Christine's stomach in knots was gone and she nodded agreeably. "Sure."


	7. Chapter 7

Over the next few days, Christine spent hours with Veronica as they got to know the people they'd grown to be. Veronica taught Christine to play caravan, and they talked and told stories while they played.

Christine was used to being alone, but being around the scribe felt natural and right. She knew they were going to have to take time to learn each other again, and to break down the memories and old assumptions they still held, but she had a feeling that so long as they stayed in contact, they'd make good friends.

Part of Christine yearned for their friendship to grow into something more once again, but she did her best to suppress those feelings and enjoy the time she had with Veronica in whatever capacity she could. After everything she'd been through, she wasn't going to take anything, especially not Veronica, for granted.

Six seemed surprised and pleased to see how well they were getting along, and he seemed to arrange for them to have time together. Christine made a mental note to thank him when she got the chance.

The day Christine dreaded came too soon, though, and she was sitting with Veronica on the scribe's bed the night before Six and his companions were going to leave the dam. Caravan cards lay forgotten between them and both women were quiet and lost in thought.

"It's going to be weird to leave," Veronica ventured, playing with a loose thread at her knee. She looked up and turned a curious gaze on the bald woman. "How long were you here before the battle?"

Christine shrugged, scratching a residual itch on her healed shoulder. "A few weeks. Didn't feel like long, since we were always waiting for the battle to start."

The scribe nodded understandingly, going quiet again.

It was getting late, and Christine had plans to get up early with the courier's group to see them off. She had plans to leave too, but had no idea where she was going and had avoided thinking about it, especially since it meant parting ways with the scribe. She shook herself and moved to get up. "We should probably get to bed. Got an early morning tomorrow."

"Aren't you going to offer to buy dinner first?" Veronica teased weakly, cringing as the words left her mouth.

Christine sat there dumbly, trying not to see the joke as anything more than it was.

The scribe let out a frustrated huff and ran a hand through her hair. "Sorry. I just..." She looked up at Christine, her eyes unreadable.

Christine studied Veronica quietly, her own thoughts coming back to haunt her. This, tonight, might be her last shot at spending time with Veronica. An impulse began forming at the back of her mind and she sighed. If tomorrow meant their separation and no consequences, why not take a risk?

"Veronica," she murmured, hardly aware of the name leaving her lips. She crawled across the bed and cradled the woman's face gently, taking in everything she loved about the brunette before closing the distance and kissing her.

Veronica gave a soft moan and she seemed to melt into Christine's touch. A few moments later, she seemed to realize what was happened and pulled away. "Christine..."

Christine saw the emotions whirling in the scribe's eyes and her stomach turned over.

Tears filled Veronica's eyes and she tried to say something but couldn't get anything to come out. She settled for shaking her head and pushing Christine away. "I... We just..."

Christine felt like something inside her was imploding, but she nodded like she understood completely. "Sorry. I'll go." She slid off the bed, moving for the door.

"Wait," Veronica pleaded the second Christine's hand reached for the door switch.

The bald woman didn't think she could bear to turn around and face the brunette so she just waited.

"Christine, it's..." Veronica swallowed hard and Christine wanted to kick herself when she heard the scribe sniffle. "Will you please look at me?"

It nearly killed Christine to do it, but she turned around and managed to look Veronica in the eye.

Veronica watched her carefully through teary eyes, biting her lip. "Am I going to see you in the morning?"

Christine hesitated, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but near Veronica. She looked at the scribe and saw Veronica's composure breaking and sighed, closing her eyes. "Yeah. I guess."

Veronica nodded quietly, and Christine escaped the room while she could. Risks, she decided, were complete bullshit.

 

=====:=====

True to her word, Christine got up early and went to the surface to see Six and his companions off.

The courier was already outside with Cass when she got there, and Christine crossed over to him. She knew better than to think they'd be bumping into each other soon, and if she headed off and got into trouble, she'd never be able to thank him. "Hey, Six?"

He turned away from the redhead and grinned. "Hey! What's goin' on?"

Christine shifted, glancing over her shoulder at the door to the dam, hoping Veronica wouldn't come out just yet. "I need to talk to you."

Six's face grew serious instantly and he excused himself, walking a few feet away with Christine. "What's up? Something happen with Veronica?"

The scarred woman hesitated and shook her head, deciding not to bother him with her own stupidity. "No, I just... wanted to thank you."

The courier gave her a blank look. "For what?"

"Dragging me out of the Madre and giving me a second chance," Christine answered simply. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but... thanks."

Six regarded her quietly, a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. "You're welcome." His voice was sincere and calm, and he stepped forward and grabbed her in a hug. "Take care of yourself, Christine."

She tried to grin, but couldn't muster the energy; she was already emotionally drained from her mistake with Veronica, and the finality of the courier's goodbye was hitting her in just the wrong way. Christine wanted a drink, but ignored that for the time being. There would be plenty of time to get drunk after she put on a brave face for her friend.

Six gave her another smile and walked back over to Cass. Arcade joined them a minute later, almost immediately flustered after being taunted by the redhead.

Christine watched them for a moment, glad for the courier. He had plenty of friends and she knew he was a good shot with a holorifle; he'd be okay no matter what life threw at him. As for herself...

"You're here."

Christine's insides locked up at the sound of Veronica's voice, and she turned around to face the scribe.

Veronica looked calm and composed, but she was worrying her lip between her teeth. "I thought... I didn't know if you'd come."

Christine nodded mutely. She couldn't maintain eye contact and dropped her gaze to the ground, wishing the moment was already over, or that she could take back her kiss the night before.

"... What are you going to do?" Veronica asked quietly.

"Not sure," Christine mumbled, willing herself to be strong. "Go somewhere, I guess."

Veronica hesitated, biting her lip again. "Christine, I... About last night..."

The scarred woman cringed. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't think."

"I didn't say no," Veronica retorted, the words startling Christine into hopeful silence. "I just... it's too soon, Christine. We're just figuring out how to be friends." She gave the shorter woman a cautious look. "Maybe someday?"

Christine wanted to promise that she'd wait forever, but she knew Veronica wouldn't believe it. She shrugged to appease the scribe, hoping that if she pretended everything was fine, it would be. "Maybe."

Veronica sighed and went quiet again. Christine could feel the scribe's eyes on her and managed to look up and meet them.

"Don't let all this go down the drain," Veronica begged softly. "I don't want to lose you again. I lo... I care about you, Christine."

The words were both painful and comforting. A bitter smile crossed Christine's face at the words left unsaid, and she sighed and studied the scribe for a moment. There was hope in her eyes and Christine knew her silence was hurting Veronica more than a mistaken kiss. "Maybe," she said again, imagining herself knocking on the Brotherhood's door and asking if Veronica could go out for coffee. "I might come back this way sometime. We could meet up then."

Veronica was quiet but her face remained neutral. "That'd be good," she agreed, her tone too bright to be sincere.

Christine nodded. She shook Veronica's hand when the scribe offered it, and neither of them let go, staring at each other and drinking in the sight of each other.

Veronica's eyes flashed with pain and she sighed and pulled her hand away. "This is bullshit, isn't it?" She laughed bitterly. "God, it figures. We both finally get out and away from all those stupid rules, and it still doesn't work."

Christine hesitated, a confused frown appearing on her face. "Out?" she echoed.

"Of the Brotherhood." Veronica looked somewhat uncomfortable as the admission slipped out of her mouth.

Christine's confusion deepened and she raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"The, uh, Brotherhood and I aren't exactly..." Veronica glanced away, ashamed. "I left."

"Oh." Christine was surprised but didn't press her for information. Everything she'd assumed had been turned on its head, and a hopeful feeling settled on Christine's shoulders, replacing the bitterness and pain. If Veronica wasn't part of the Brotherhood...

"A few of the paladins wiped out a Followers outpost when I tried to join them," the former scribe explained softly, her voice guilty. "So I'm just a drifter now, I guess. Kinda like you." She looked up at Christine and grinned weakly. "Six is probably gonna stay at the Lucky 38 with Cass, and the Brotherhood won't take me back... So it looks like I'm gonna be finding somewhere else to go."

Christine perked up, sensing the opportunity being presented to her. "Got anywhere specific in mind?"

"Not really." Veronica gave her a guarded, yet hopeful look. "Why, need a traveling buddy?"

Christine's heart leapt and a grin appeared on her face. "If you want."

Veronica hesitated, studying Christine as a smile grew on her own face. "I'd like that."

The scarred woman wanted to shout victoriously, but she wasn't sure she was in the clear yet. "You sure? Even though I kissed you?"

Veronica rolled her eyes and grinned. "I told you, it's not like I didn't enjoy it. I just want a little more time. And it's not like we won't have a lot of time to get to that point if we're traveling together." She cocked her head and studied Christine for a moment. "You're adorable when you're flustered."

Christine flushed and tried to smile. "Sorry, I-you're serious? About all of that?"

Veronica pretended to look thoughtful and nodded. "I don't have anywhere I need to be. I don't want to lose you again. I just... yeah, Christine. As long as you want me with you, I'd like to come along."

The scarred woman's mind was blown and she gazed up at the scribe with a dazed smile. "Awesome."

"Did you guys get it worked out?" Six's voice called over.

They glanced over and saw Six studying them, and Veronica grinned and nodded. "Looks like I'll be seeing you guys around," she replied.

Six and Arcade applauded, and Christine chuckled as the redhead let out a raspy whoop.

Veronica headed over and hugged her friends, wishing them good luck and saying her goodbyes before returning to Christine's side.

Six and his companions gathered their things and waved, heading up the road and toward New Vegas. Christine and Veronica watched them go, turning and gazing at each other once the group was out of sight.

"Is this real?" Christine asked softly.

"Better be, or I'm one fantastic figment of your imagination." Veronica grinned when Christine chuckled. "Where would you like to go first?"

Christine shrugged, turning to survey the roads away from the dam. "Traveling buddy makes the navigation decisions," she declared, giving Veronica an innocent smile.

The former scribe groaned and picked a direction, taking Christine's hand and leading her away from the dam.

Their hands still fit together perfectly, and Christine couldn't help but smile as Veronica led her off into the wastes toward their future together.


End file.
